A Good Sin
by DOTBF
Summary: RocketSlime, SlivalXRocket HoolyXBo. Rocket has rescued Slival from the Plob, but now they're out for rengenge. Can Slival realize his feelings and rescue his friend before its too late? Set post game. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_RocketSlime, DragonWarrior and all characters attached to it belong to Square Enix  
The concept of turning them all into people belongs to me :)  
_

**Note:**_** Hello and welcome to this fic. First off, I'd like to begin by saying that as of today, the day i post this, this fic is on extended hiatus, and is only being posted because I was requested to do so. Moreover, I believe I'll be taking it down after it serves its purpose. Now without any further delay I give you the fic:  
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Slival eventually got used to waking up whenever he chose. To waking up in a bed—which although wasn't his, was a welcome change. And to waking up in a room that had heat, and windows, and carpet and no bugs. He eventually got used to being served three square meals a day, with snacks in between if he so chose. To being greeted when he walked into a room with a pleasant 'hello' or 'good morning', and to being treated like a genuine friend and family member, rather than an expendable force to be flung at opponents without a second thought to it. And while Slival eventually got used to the usual aspects of small-town life, the one thing that continued to trip him up was the very person who brought him into such a life to begin with.

Amid his thought, Slival decided he'd let his guard down, which was why, in turn, he'd been flung into such a position that he was presently in. He was unsure of what had just happened, however the fact remained that he was flat on his back on the floor, and Rocket was leaning over the bedside to look down on him. The latter being the rightful owner of said bed. But just because it was his didn't mean Rocket was going to hog it all to himself, and in an act of utter selflessness, had given it to Slival until his parents could raise the money to have another ordered. Rocket had made a nest for himself with a beanbag chair and a few extra blankets, and it was where he slept at night. Quite contentedly at that.

Rocket laughed,

"I thought you'd dodge or something," he said, "I'm sorry, you okay?"

Slival took a moment to heave a sigh, then another to evaluate his situation (that being tangled up hopelessly in the blanket), and then a last to meet Rocket's gaze. His response came barely audible,

"Fine."

He could hear already, the others in the kitchen below. The usual sounds of Ma making breakfast, and Pa shuffling about to fill his cup with coffee or to fetch the paper from the front step. Little Bo, with her plate of oatmeal and her daily tradition of the spoon on bowl symphony. And of course Hooly, whose parents worked in the city and left him in the care of their neighbors while they were gone, who assisted Bo, daily with her symphony, adding a terrible, off-key vocal that never failed to sink the younger girl into a giggle fit. The morning routine as usual.

"Ma told me to come wake you up," Rocket was saying, "She says breakfast is almost ready and to hurry up or Hooly and me are going to eat it all."

Rocket was still in his pajamas. And without a doubt, everyone else downstairs was as well. If nothing else, the fact that Slival was allowed to walk around the house all day in a rumpled tshirt and shorts, continually perplexed and amused him both. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and regarded Rocket silently. And he guessed it was the silence that prompted a frown out of the other boy.

"You seem down." He said simply. After receiving a shrug he continued, "What's the trouble? Nightmares again?" another shrug, "Did you sleep at all last night?" A nod. "You sick?" a shrug again, "How bout the cuts?" shrug. "You seem to be very undecided." He was answered with a heavy sigh. Slival turned his gaze away from Rocket and looked down on his arms which sustained several bandages which nursed the slowly healing cuts and scrapes and things he'd gotten product of a Tank Battle gone horribly wrong. For a moment he wondered if it hadn't been for that particular battle, if he would still be with the Plob, being treated like a slave no less.

Rocket dropped down on the floor next to his friend, laying a hand on his shoulder and offering him a knowing smile when he had gotten his attention,

"It's okay now, Sivs," he said gently, "You and I screwed the Plob way over, everything is alright now." Slival nodded softly and slowly exhaled. Rocket continued, "And moreover, if they ever decide to come back, you and I will mess em up again, right?" accompanying the question was a small, playful shove,

"Mmhm."

Rocket's smile returned and he spoke again,

"And, if I may say so, me and you make a pretty darn good team."

"Mmhm."

"Best in the entire world, I bet."

"Mmmmhm."

"But I'm the better out of the both of us, hands down." The comment gained him Slival's immediate attention,

"Oh really."

Rocket's smile broadened into a grin,

"Yes really," he said, "If you were the better, I wouldn't be able to do this!" so speaking Rocket tackled his friend over, and pinned his one wrist behind his back. Slival offered minimal struggle before resorting to pained noises,

"Alright, alright! You win, get _off_!"

Rocket chuckled and relinquished his hold on his friend and clambered back to his feet to sit on his bed, his expression smug. He watched Slival right himself and massage the stiffness out of his arm again.

"That was a dirty trick." He said after a moment. Rocket grinned back,

"Darn right it was." He said, "I sure can't get the better of you playing fair."

From downstairs, Ma's voice came a bit muffled through the usual kitchen noises,

"Boys, you'd better hurry and get down here or else there won't be any breakfast left!"

Rocket looked up and met his friend's eyes,

"Shall we?" he asked, getting to his feet to bow deeply, allowing Slival to be first. Much to his surprise, he took the chance (without a gesture to match or some sarcastic comment like 'ladies first'), and took off down the hall, calling back over his shoulder,

"Last one down is a rotten egg."


	2. Chapter 2

Slival had anticipated a daytrip outside of the little town. He had anticipated having another so called 'small-town-skill' shoved down his throat. And he had anticipated such a skill to come with some sort of degrading price for failure. And to say that he had anticipated everything would have been a gross overstatement. Rocket was taking them on a daytrip and nothing more. Said boy came to a halt in his favorite clearing, smack-dab in the middle of Forewood Forest, and turned to face his friends. Hooly was the first to speak, 

"Alright, so now what?"

Rocket smiled, pointedly meeting gazes with Slival,

"I thought today we'd give poor Sivs a break, and just…play."

At his comment, Hooly raised his eyebrows, Bo tilted her head to the side a bit in thought, and Slival breathed a silent sigh of relief. Hooly was the first to recover from his friend's words, and provided the next question,

"And what are we going to play?" he asked, and absently ran his fingers through his mess of sandy brown hair,

"Does Sivs know any games?" came Bo's query, which prompted Hooly nodding in agreement. Rocket shrugged at this,

"How hard can it possibly be to teach him hide-and-go-seek?" he asked, "Anyone with common sense can figure it out from the title, am I right?"

Hooly and Bo murmured their agreements.

"And besides," Rocket continued, "Us hiders get at least two minutes to hide, I'm sure I can explain it by then."

"Oh so we're doing it in teams now, huh?" Bo asked, "You and Sivs hide and me and Hooly seek?"

After a moment of pondering Rocket nodded,

"Yes, that is in fact, exactly what I mean."

Hooly met his friend's gaze for a moment, expressing his confusion through it. Rocket offered him a smile which answered with reassurance, and with not so much as a backwards glance, motioned for Slival to follow and took off at a jog into the woods.

Slival followed his friend, carefully mimicking his steps and doing his best not to take his eyes up from his feet. He figured Rocket must have decided to come to the Forest on purpose. That he knew about what was hidden there. And that he was going to expose it in front of everyone. Slival knew if he took his gaze off his feet, he'd see all the painfully obvious clues. The snapped branches, the crushed foliage, and the rest. Rocket was devious like that, Slival was sure he could figure it out without breaking a sweat. He was further convinced when Rocket grabbed his wrist, turned sharply and dragged him down into a creek bed, long since dried up leaving nothing but the smooth stream pebbles in its wake.

Slival found himself crammed under a slight overhang and told to be quiet. He watched silently as Rocket maneuvered a pace away from him to glance above the edge of the creek, only to duck back down and press himself against the wall. The sounds of heavy footsteps followed the action closely and Slival realized he was holding his breath. The footsteps stopped several feet shy of the creek and they heard Hooly's voice telling Bo to go in another direction. The footsteps then went their separate ways, and continued on into the woods until the noises faded away.

His breath came out in a long, deep sigh, and with a nod from Rocket, Slival unknotted the tight muscles in his legs and stretched them. When he looked up again, Rocket had sat down next to him, leaning casually on the wall of the creek bed, his smile was soft. When he spoke his voice came out affectionate,

"Sivs…what do you think about love?" he asked. Slival turned and looked at the other boy with confused dark eyes. That had certainly been the last thing he'd expected to come out of Rocket's mouth. The latter noticed the look on his friend's face and offered him a shy smile, "Never mind," he said, "It's a silly question anyway."

"There's no such thing as silly questions." Slival said, forcing himself not to choke on the words and stutter,

"Just silly answers," Rocket finished, his smile broadening a bit. Slival nodded; surprised he'd remembered that phrase. It had been such a long time since Rocket had taught him that. He met his friend's eyes before speaking,

"What about love?"

"Like…what do you think of it?" Rocket said and shrugged, "What kind of person would you go out with…what would you do with them…what would they look like?" he paused and awkwardly smiled, "I'm just kind of confused with myself is what it is." He said, "I've talked to the older guys, they say it's the whole _Finding Yourself_ thing, but from what they said I figured it would happen when I got a lot older, you know?"

Slival shrugged and opened his mouth to speak, but Rocket had already gone on,

"And its not that I don't know what kind of a person to look for, or anything like that. Honestly I've got a pretty good idea of it. It's just the coming out and admitting to them is what's got me running scared."

"That's all justified," Slival said softly, "I wager it's your first, right?" he received a nod, "Exactly, it's something you've never done before, so you have every right to be nervous about it. It happens to everyone."

"You sound like Ma." Rocket said. Slival cringed inwardly at his words. He had been hoping it wasn't that blatantly obvious. It had only been a few days ago that Ma had given him The Talk, over lunch no less (Pa would have, but had more confidence in his wife's vocabulary than his own). Outwardly, Slival offered a bit of an awkward laugh, mumbling something to the effect of,

"Yea, I guess I do."

They sat in silence for a minute or two more. The forest around them sighing through the tree leaves, birds chirping and the clouds floating peaceably overhead. Then,

"Slival?"

He turned to meet Rocket's gaze, finding him leaning forward a bit, the look on his face was unsure and he seemed a bit flushed, but his eyes glinted determinedly,

"I…I love you."

Slival never quite heard what Rocket had said. He was too caught up in the liquid bliss that was bubbling up in his chest. He only half noticed when his friend leaned in and caught him up in a kiss, realizing only after he'd done it that he'd willingly met Rocket half way, and was confused as to why he wasn't startled by it.

He'd have happily continued on for as long as Rocket so chose to lead, however they were both rather startled when Hooly's voice came out of nowhere,

"Haha, so Rocket's true colors finally come out, huh?"

Rocket looked up sharply and blinked in embarrassment before his friend's grinning features. Hooly sniggered at him from where he was leaning upside down over the edge of the little overhang,

"I always knew you had it in ya'," he said teasingly, "But never in a million years would I have thought to pair ya' up with Sivs."

Rocket matched his grin,

"Is that right?" he said, the note in his voice was challenging, "And this is coming from the guy who's going around with a secret love affair with my sister?" Naturally he was exaggerating a bit. But Hooly blushed profusely all the same.

"H-how'd you know about that?" he asked, flustered. It was Rocket's turn to snigger,

"_She's my sister_." He repeated, "And it's a brother's job to read his sister's diary, isn't it?"

Hooly laughed and sat up straight again, cuing Rocket to emerge from his hiding place. Slival, by then, was beginning to recover his wits and sat in half stunned silence. It was only just beginning to sink in what had just happened, and even though he watched Rocket smiling at him again, he never really saw it. It was only when the other boy spoke did Slival snap out of his thoughts,

"C'mon, Sivs," he said, just as if nothing had ever happened, "It's starting to get late; we should get home before Ma gets worried."

The latter nodded daftly and accepted his friend's hand in getting up. He was about to follow Hooly back into the woods when Rocket grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back,

"And Sivs…" he whispered to him, "We all know you buried your helmet around here, its probably a good idea to get it now so it won't rust."


	3. Chapter 3

The helmet was certainly quite a bit heavier than he'd remembered it. They four all sat in a circle around the offending hunk of metal in silence. It had been something of a feared object in previous months, since the seeing of it also meant the seeing of Slival, and if you were to see Slival only a few short months ago, it meant you were going to have your head beaten into the ground. 

Rocket was the first to speak,

"So," he said casually, "Who's gonna wear it first?"

"Wear it, are you kidding?" Hooly said, giving his friend a look, "We could barely carry it home, how in the heck are we going to be able to _wear_ it?"

Rocket shrugged and ran a hand along the long red spike jutting out of the top,

"Well," he said slowly, "I just figure that we should stop being afraid of this thing is all. I'm not saying we should wear it around town or anything, I just think that if we actually have it on our heads, and we don't _die_ then we'll stop being so skeptical about it." He paused and exchanged glances with Slival, "Sivs doesn't know this, but before we dug it out today, we were all making a point of avoiding that particular creek bed."

In response, the latter wrinkled his nose. Hooly shrugged,

"Yea, I guess that makes sense," he said, "But how are we going to put it on our heads anyway? The thing weighs more than any of us—except for _maybe_ Sivs—can lift."

"Then Sivs should wear it first." Rocket said evenly. Hooly and Bo blinked at nearly the same time, and Slival adopted a startled look,

"I don't want to wear it." He defended himself, "This stupid hunk of junk is a symbol of the Plob, practically. I don't want to have anything to do with them anymore, and we all know it."

Hooly and Bo made small noises in agreement. Rocket, however, had other ideas,

"I still think we should do it, though." He persisted, "It's not like it's a brain control helmet or anything. It's just heavy…and…not attached to any good memories. But just because of that, doesn't mean we should run away from it."

Slival sighed,

"Fine," he said softly, "If you want me to wear it _so_ badly, I will. But know this; I am _not_ happy about it." So speaking he heaved the helmet into his lap and turned it around and (with some difficulty) managed to get it on his head.

It was _definitely_ a lot heavier than he remembered.

Slival managed to hold himself upright for a moment or two before giving up the fight with gravity and toppling over backwards and coming to a thudding halt sprawled on his back. There were assorted giggles from the space that he couldn't see where Rocket and Hooly and Bo were sitting, and after a small scuffle, all three of their faces appeared over him,

"If Sivs can't even stay up wearing that thing, than I doubt any of us can do it," Hooly said around a grin.

"Yea," Bo agreed, "Especially me."

Rocket smiled,

"Still fit, Sivs?" he asked and received a nod in response, "And no brain control?"

Slival squinted at him,

"I wouldn't say that…" he leered, sarcasm clearly evident, "I've got the strongest urge to hop in my Tank and destroy a couple towns before lunch…"

Rocket gasped dramatically,

"_Oh no_!" he said, "He's gone back to the dark side! We've got to bring him back!"

"How do we do that!" Bo shouted back, giggling. Slival twisted his own laughter into what he hoped looked like an evil grin,

"Better hurry before I start destroying things." He said and grouped his fingers at them for effect.

"There's only one way to cure the effects of the brain control helmet!" Rocket proclaimed. He flashed Slival a rather devious looking grin before pouncing on his friend and launching a savage tickling assault on his ribs. Slival hadn't been expecting such an attack, naturally, or else he'd have detached himself from the hindrance that was his helmet. And, naturally, he was helpless to do anything about Bo and Hooly's joining in the little battle, and in a matter of a few moments they three had reduced him to a puddle, so to speak.

All his kicking and thrashing eventually persuaded his torturers to let up and sit back, though it was several minutes later when they did. Slival lay in a limp, out of breath heap on the floor, arms protectively around his stomach, chest heaving, cheeks flushed,

"That," he gasped, "Was horrible…" his comment induced more giggling from the other three,

"You needed it," Rocket said, "And don't you even try and deny it."

"Yea," Hooly nodded, "You've been depressed all week."

Bo matched his nod and aimed a well-placed jab of her finger at Slival's side, which made him jump; snort and half turn over to protect himself. Much to his dismay, from his other side, Rocket mimicked his sister's cheap shot, and his attack provoked Slival into laughing again,

"Stop, stop already!" he shouted, scrunching his face up before loosing his willpower again as his so-called friends started up tickling him once more. Needless to say, nobody paid him any attention.

"What's going on in there?" Ma's voice called from the stairwell and Bo, Hooly and Rocket all froze. They exchanged glances before Ma appeared in the door and stepped in the room to take in the scene before her. It was very likely that, to anyone else, walking in at that particular moment would have prompted the conclusion of Slival being molested. But Ma was very in tune to the workings of her children and she stifled a small laugh. She put her hands on her hips,

"You're all ganging up on Slival?" she said, "That doesn't sound very fair to me."

"Its not." Slival's voice came sounding half strangled. Rocket sniggered,

"But, Ma, he was going back to the dark side, we had to bring him back."

"It was the brain control helmet," Bo added.

"Ohh, I see." Ma said and nodded knowingly, noting Slival's infamous helmet, "That changes things a bit, doesn't it?"

"It does," Hooly replied, "We can't have Sivs running around destroying things again. What kind of friends would we be then?"

"You're already pretty bad," Slival mumbled around a smile, "No decent friend subjects a person to torture."

"Sure they do," Ma said, laughter behind her eyes, "It means that they're very close." She smiled before speaking again, "Lunch will be ready shortly, and if you're going to keep curing the brain control, make sure he can breathe." She offered one final smile before disappearing back down the hall again.

The four of them sat in thoughtful silence, the only noise being Slival's heavy breathing. After a second he inhaled sharply and wriggled himself free of the helmet and sat up,

"I think that may possibly have been the most intense workout I've ever had." He said and rubbed the laughing tears out of his eyes. Hooly and Rocket laughed, and Bo smiled widely,

"I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before, Sivs." She said.

"Yea me either," Hooly agreed. Rocket smiled softly,

"He's got a cute laugh." He said with equal volume, and it was such a small compliment that made Slival blush, evident despite his flushed face.


	4. Chapter 4

Several weeks later Slival found himself alone in a very quiet bedroom. All thoughts of Rocket's being in love with him had traveled into the far reaches of his mind, and to be perfectly honest, Slival had nearly forgotten the whole ordeal all together. Not even his wandering thoughts dared bring the memory up. They were rather occupied with enjoying the rare silence. Hooly had gone home for the night, Bo had bid them all farewell and gone to the sleepover party at one of her friend's house, and Ma and Pa had left to an adult dinner party with goodbyes and behave yourselves. Rocket was still downstairs. 

Slival sighed deeply and lay back, cupping his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. It went without saying that having to constantly be on guard took it out of him. Whether it was guarding against some distrusted rival, or guarding against being ganged up on by his three friends and tickled to death. Regardless of the circumstance, the fact remained that Slival was rather tired.

He hardly noticed Rocket's footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall.

What he did notice, however, was the sudden explosion of activity diving flat on top of him. There was a short wrestling match of sorts, which naturally Slival—being stronger than his foe—won. When he opened his eyes again, he found Rocket comfortably sprawled beneath him, smiling casually. Slival couldn't help blushing a bit. Rocket's smile broadened upon seeing such and he lifted a hand and brushed his thumb against the other boy's cheek. Slival shivered,

"I can't remember the last time I had the house to myself." Rocket said softly, "We can break the rules a little now…Nobody to tell on us…Nobody to tell to. Just you and me."

"What are you suggesting exactly?"

"Wanna' make out?"

Slival blinked. That had certainly been forward. He stuttered his response,

"I…well _yes_, but…do you think we really…right _now_…?" he stopped as Rocket touched a finger to his lips,

"Is this really the same Slival as this morning?" he teased, "What happened to your cold, sarcastic attitude? Do I really fluster you that much?"

"Yes, that's a good way to put it, actually." Slival replied softly, sitting back and crossing his arms in thought, "I'd begun to think of that whole creek bed thing as a dream…it wasn't, though, right?"

"No," Rocket shook his head, sitting up to match, "That was real." He paused and met Slival's eyes, "I need to know, though," he said quietly, "Am I wasting my time…or could you maybe be able to love me back?"

"I…" a pause. Slival looked at his hands, then his arms, and the bandages that were still there, "I don't really know how to answer that." He said finally, "Well…no, I do love you. Honest, I do. But, I don't know if it's the same kind of love…like, not on the same level as you are." He paused and met his friend's gaze, "You gotta' understand that my _entire life_ I was raised basically as a weapon. The entire concept of loving and being loved is new to me…You and I could be coming from completely different standpoints…and I'm not sure how that would work out."

Rocket smiled and sighed,

"That's good," he said, "I was afraid for a minute that you were going to be like_no, I hate you_." He smiled, "At least you've got feelings for me at all, right?"

Slival put on a somewhat perplexed smile,

"You're weird." He said. Rocket grinned,

"Weird I may be, but I blame it on being in love, so that gives me some ground at least." He leaned forward onto his hands and knees, "But seriously, I need to vent my romantic energy." He put on puppy eyes, "Could you maybe just try it? Who knows, it could work out like a charm. We won't know until we try."

"You don't listen do you?" Slival said flatly. Rocket laughed sheepishly and shrugged. Slival heaved a sigh, running a hand through his hair and wincing when he hit a snag, "Regardless of what I say, you're going to force me into this anyway, so I'm not going to even bother resisting."

Rocket made a face,

"No, if you don't want to, then I'm not going to force you. Its either yes, or no. Not in between."

"Look," Slival said evenly, "You're going to make me loose my nerve if you keep talking, so if you're going to _vent your romantic energy_ you'd better hurry it up."

The deviousness in Rocket's eyes came back after that,

"_There's_ the Sivs I know." He said softly.

Slival let his rational mindset slip away and submit himself fully to his friend. Rocket leaned in and softly touched his lips to Slival's. The electric pleasure that followed, Slival couldn't even begin to put words to. His world narrowed to himself and Rocket and the fact that they both were kissing. He couldn't remember telling his hand to come to rest against Rocket's knee. The latter seemed to smile around his mouth,

"See…you're getting into this…" came his whisper. The reaction to the tease caught Rocket completely off guard—for that matter; it caught Slival off guard too,

"Shut up," the latter hissed, summoning up his strength and knocking Rocket over on his back and gnawing his lower lip softly. For only half a second did Rocket seem startled, the next he had opened his mouth just a bit, running his tongue across Slival's lips, which prompted a fairly similar action out of the other boy.

Then all of a sudden their tongues were in each other's mouths, exploring hastily, colliding and doing back flips. And it was warm…deliciously warm. It seemed so natural to Slival to collapse on Rocket and wrap his arms around his neck. Anything to be closer to him.

Slival found himself rather disappointed when Rocket pulled back and gasped up a rushed, deep breath. When the latter had refilled his lungs he sank back into the mattress and turned softened blue eyes up on his friend. Slival noted that Rocket was short of breath, and he was flushed. If they two weren't in such a position as they were, it would have looked like Rocket had just come in from running laps around the house. Slival gave him an inquisitive look,

"Did you hold your breath through all that?" he asked softly, a note of disbelief behind his voice. Rocket looked sheepish again,

"Is that wrong?" he said, "How am I supposed to breath when you're_ kissing me with your tongue_?"

"You breathe through your nose." Slival said, smiled, shrugged and lay his head against Rocket's chest, sighing contentedly. Rocket moved and leaned on his elbows,

"So…tell me again why you know more about kissing than I do?" he asked. Slival quietly, calmly met his eyes, and responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world,

"Common sense."

Rocket gave him an odd look before flopping over on his back again,

"I don't buy it." He said softly.

"S'true." Slival mumbled, "Can…uh…can we…?"

"Again?" Rocket met his gaze and smiled, just a bit sarcastically,

"Please."

Much later indeed when Ma returned from the dinner party, the door to the children's bedroom was eased softly open, as many parents check on their children at night. Pa, of course, protested her doing so calling it,_insulting to our sons and unmanly_, and that she_ should trust that they've gotten themselves to bed like the responsible young men they are_. However, when she opened the door to look inside the little room she couldn't admit being very surprised at all to find both Rocket and Slival curled up, asleep in one bed together.


	5. Chapter 5

The breakfast routine as usual commenced the next morning. Ma busily made the oatmeal and toast, Pa shuffled to the front step and retrieved the morning paper, Bo conducted the spoon on bowl symphony, and Hooly decided to mix things up a bit and went with a rapping vocal which succeeded in sinking all inhabitants of the kitchen in laughter. Rocket and Slival came down the stairs in the midst of it. The two wore matching looks of partial sleep and almost simultaneously yawned. They quickly found their seats on the bench beside Hooly and the breakfast routine went on its merry way. 

"So," Hooly said around a mouthful of toast, stray crumbs flying from his mouth and landing back on his plate, "Wha'ja do last night, Rocket? Had the whole house to yourself, I heard."

"Oh, nothing much," Rocket said with a sleepy smile, "Sivs and I threw a wild house party, got drunk and the whole bit. You know how it goes."

Slival made a small _hah_ noise in his throat as he slowly sipped his glass of juice.

"Is that right?" Ma said over her shoulder before she turned and ladled generous helpings of oatmeal into Bo and Hooly's plates, "I suppose being drunk would explain why I found the two of you in the same bed last night."

Slival choked as he tried to swallow and nearly spilled his juice in his lap. Rocket, however, seemed calm and composed as ever and offered a smooth reply,

"We stayed up and watched a scary movie on TV," he said. And it was all the response anybody needed and things went on in full swing. Slival aimed a sideways glance at his friend. If nothing else, it was the way that Rocket could lie so casually that continually baffled him. Where he, on the other hand, had just about as much deviant in him as a rock and couldn't hope to string two words together to get himself out of something if his very life depended on it. Rocket smiled to himself and coolly nibbled the crust off his toast and watched the butter melt between the holes.

The breakfast routine as usual.


	6. Chapter 6

"So spill it." Hooly said, just a bit too eagerly. The four had gone on one of their usual daytrips. The beach had been the elected choice of the day, and they had burdened themselves with a picnic basket and several towels.

"Its _so_ obvious you were lying through your teeth about that scary movie stuff," he continued, "What _did_ you do last night?"

Rocket and Slival first exchanged sideways glances before Rocket sniggered to himself and Slival simply shook his head,

"We stayed up, watched some TV, and we went to bed," the first said, "Honestly, Hooly, you're giving the impression that you think Sivs and me got it on or something."

"Rocket!" Bo cried, "You shouldn't do that behind Ma and Pa's backs, that's…"

"A lie." Rocket finished and grinned, "I was kidding. Jeez, the way you two go on makes it look like you really think we'd be up to no good. We're not _that_ bad." He paused a second, then prodded Slival's arm with his elbow, "If we were going to do it anywhere, it would be in some secret beach cove."

"_What_?" Slival's voice came out shrill and rather out of character, and it diffused any further argument of the subject. The other three all laughed, and they continued contentedly on their way. After some time Hooly spoke back up, unable to let it drop,

"But why were you in the same bed, then?" he asked, "Just watching TV and going to bed wouldn't…unless you _really were_."

"For God sakes," Slival sighed roughly, "You wanna' know what we did?" his voice was first rather venomous, but under it was just a bit of laughter, well disguised, "We made out, okay? Rocket came in the room and was all '_I need to vent my romantic energy_' and we did that for…not even fifteen minutes before we went to sleep. Will you stop bugging us now?"

As he finished his speech, Slival glanced at Rocket and was very amused to find him staring, mouth agape. From behind Hooly laughed,

"I knew it." He grinned, "Ever since the day we went to the Forest. Nobody else seems to notice, but Rocket spends _every waking moment_ of his time ogling at you."

"Oh, stop it. I do not." The defense was hasty and flustered,

"Do to." Hooly said, "Don't even try and deny it, I'm your _best friend_. I'm required to know all your secrets."

Rocket, for perhaps the first time in his life, could think of no witty response to deflect his friend's words. He managed to look embarrassed and nothing more.

"Come off it," Slival said mildly, "You've got just as many secrets as he does, don't think we don't know you're feeling Bo up when you think we're not looking."

Both Hooly and Bo blushed deeply. Neither offered any response. Rocket, however, recovered quickly from his awkwardness and aimed a grin at Slival,

"My, my, Sivs, since when are you so cunning?"

"I have a good teacher, what can I say?" he replied, shrugged, and smiled softly.

The remainder of the trip was spent in comfortable silence.


	7. Chapter 7

Slival sat in the sand and watched as Hooly tailed Rocket down the beach in some elongated rendition of tag. Off in the opposite direction, Bo had discovered a tidal pool and was busy making friends with its inhabitants. He watched as Hooly skidded to a quick stop, turned and flying tackled his friend as the latter began to make a wide loop in the opposite direction. The two wound up in a dusty, giggling heap on the ground. After a moment Hooly sprang to his feet and darted back towards Slival, Rocket closely following. 

The two quickly made it back to where Slival sat guarding their basket and towel and ran several circles around him before a mutual decision was reached to stop on either side. They froze to the spot for not more than a moment before Rocket sprang into motion, vaulted over Slival (who wisely ducked), and knocked his friend flat over backwards. Another dusty, giggling heap was formed.

"You cheat! You cheat!" Hooly shouted, flailing his limbs in an effort of knocking Rocket off of him,

"Yea, I do," was the response, no shortage of sarcasm, "Gonna' do somethin' about it, Hooly?"

The latter could offer his friend no comeback and merely glared at him. Rocket laughed before climbing off and getting to his feet,

"Truce for now," he said, extending his friend a hand and helping him up. There was a short scuffle for a place to sit before Slival wound up between his two friends.

Over the course of their stay at their secret stretch of sand, the three of the group who were male had flung their shirts into the towel bag and resolved to stay that way for sake of keeping cool, and Bo had darted off behind the trees and changed into her swim suit.

Slival found himself aiming sideways glances at Rocket, drinking up his current shirtless appearance, and upon realizing what he was doing quickly turned his eyes back on the ocean. From his one side, Rocket laughed quietly,

"Don't be embarrassed," he said lightly, "God only knows I stare at you all the time. I don't mind it,"

Slival offered a small, somewhat guilty smile before returning his gaze to the water again. Hooly leaned forward,

"So," he said, "When are you two gonna' make out again? I wanna' watch."

At almost the same moment, Rocket and Slival made rather indignant noises, which induced Hooly to break into laughter. For a short moment did the first two sit in embarrassed silence, then Rocket spoke,

"Let's get him, Sivs," he said softly.

It was at that moment that realization hit Slival square in the face. He watched silently as Rocket dived over him at his friend, winding up sprawled on them both. He wondered exactly why it hadn't occurred to him before then;

_Rocket was a boy_.

It hadn't been a secret around the Plob, that if somebody went around proclaiming their love of someone of the same gender, that person would have their face rearranged. So didn't that make it wrong? Slival weighted his options; it could be that the Plob was the polar opposite of all things natural and good in the world, and that his being in love with another male was perfectly fine in his current situation. Or it could be that people simply looked down on two boys loving one another and that he'd loose face among other people if he were to conform to such standards as those.

And exactly how many other people did he know of who loved other people of the same gender? He couldn't think of any. Could that mean this particular mindset was a minority? Would things be just like the Plob if he were to admit his love of Rocket? Slival knew for a fact that he'd rather his face not be rearranged.

Amid his thought, he frowned.

"Hey, what's the matter, Sivs?" Rocket's voice came and snapped him back to reality. Slival shook his head and looked up, finding Hooly and Rocket with matching looks of perplexity,

"Oh…uh, its nothing." Slival said quickly. As a hasty cover up he got stiffly to his feet and brushed the backs of his shorts off, "I'm gonna go see what Bo's found over there, okay?"

Without getting anything in the form of a response, Slival made quickly for where the younger girl was stooped over the tidal pool, leaving Rocket and Hooly in baffled silence.

**Note:**_** As of today, the day I post this, this is the extent of the story. Naturally, as is with nearly all my stories, I've hit a wall and have come down with a serious case of writer's block, and its doubtful that I'll be writing any more after this point. Thank you all for reading, I appreciate it greatly. So with that, I bid you all farewell. :) **_


	8. Chapter 8

It was quite unpleasant to be completely and utterly baffled, Slival decided after he glanced at the clock on the bedside table and realized that he'd been sitting there for over an hour. He offered the surrounding bedroom silence a small groan and cradled his head in his hands, taking fistfuls of jet black hair and pulling sharply in order to clear his thoughts.

It just seemed so _wrong_ now that he thought about it. He could scarcely believe he'd let himself fall into such an obvious trap to begin with. After all, hadn't he been training nearly his _entire life_ to avoid pitfalls like this? And such blatant ones at that. Male plus male just didn't work, no matter how he oriented it in his head, and even the circumstances that had looked even remotely plausible had done nothing but repulse him.

A repulsion which he later blamed on being flustered and a minor.

The problem still stood however, as Slival had to come up with some creative way of diverting Rocket's romantic energy away from himself without seeming apparent in his motives. And that was what had him running in circles. The 'as much deviant as a rock' was no exaggeration, not by any means. The only kind of plotting Slival had _ever_ been good at was the kind that lead him to his near perfect Tank Battle winning streak. A flawless record that had but a single smudge where Rocket had come along and created many small and useless pieces out of a once perfectly functional Tank.

Funny how everything always seemed to lead back to Rocket.

And that was exactly who Slival failed to realize was coming up the stairs and down the hallway, as he was immersed in very deep thought, until Rocket had flung himself onto the bed and into Slival's lap. The latter started as it happened, nearly jumping out of his skin before realizing that he wasn't under attack. He sighed heavily and let a hand fall over his racing heart and shut his eyes to Rocket's bright smile,

"Heya' Sivs," the latter said, amusing himself with swatting at Slival's hair which hung around his face, looking much like a cat in doing so, "Hooly's home for the night, and Bo's downstairs watching a movie with Ma and Pa…you wanna'… y'know?" he accompanied the implied request with a hopeful smile that Slival never fully saw for as soon as he opened his eyes, he shifted out from under his companion and turned to dangle his legs over the bedside,

"I'm not really up for it," he replied slowly, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. Rocket found his place beside him and put a hand on his shoulder,

"What's the matter? You sick or something? Come to think of it, you've looked kinda' pale ever since we were at the beach the other day."

Slival shrugged Rocket's hand off,

"I dunno'…" he said and coupled it with a heavy sigh, "It's just…I've been doing a lot of thinking lately,"

"About what?"

Only after looking back at the situation with a clear head, did Slival realize the hole he had dug himself by responding as he did,

"About…well, us." He replied softly, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt and forcing himself not to look up to see the confusion in Rocket's eyes. There was a hesitation before the reply,

"What about us?"

"Like…you know... _us_! This whole thing. I thought about it, and I just don't know how its going to work!" as he spoke, Slival got to his feet and busied himself with pacing the floor along side the bed, "I thought about it scientifically, even looked at the books in the library, so I can prove it, and its only a girl plus a boy that produces children. If you match it up any other way, you get nothing. I thought about it from a religious standpoint too. Sat in the chapel for hours reading all the books in the pews. And the one book had a story about a town full of people who were all destroyed because they were doing the same things as we are!"

Rocket stood up,

"So what? Do you think _I _haven't thought of those things too? What about what you think, Sivs? Not what the books think. Didn't you tell me you loved me just the other day? Wasn't it you that I was kissing? Or are you telling me that was all a lie?"

"No! It wasn't, that's not what I'm saying!" Slival said, turning sharply to meet Rocket's eyes. In his flustered, overloaded mindset he didn't notice the tears welling up in their corners, "I just don't think I can go on _doing_ this knowing that it's bad!"

"It's not bad! _I'm_ not bad! You can't just _do_ that, Sivs! Read something in a book and then suddenly, even if you've lived your life believing one thing, whatever you read is set in stone! What about _your_ morals? What about what _you_ think?!"

"But Rocket, it's a _sin_!"

"It's a good sin!" Rocket cried, stamping a foot on the ground and blinking back tears, "I can't believe you'd do this to me!" he took a second to draw a sharp breath before glaring back at Slival, "Well, _fine_ then. I see this is the thanks I get for saving your life. You go ahead and be a prick, see if I care. Just stay away from me."

Slival frowned and glared back,

"I _will_! And it'll be fun! I'll go out and have my own adventures and you can stay here and know that I'm having fun _without_ you!"

The standoff went along in silence for another moment or two before Rocket simply couldn't hold it together any longer and finally gave up trying,

"I _hate_ you! I don't know what possessed me into ever thinking you could change!" and with tears streaming down his face, Rocket turned tail and ran out the door. He didn't, however make it far enough not to hear Slival shouting after him,

"I've _always_ hated you! I should have crushed you when I had the chance!"

Rocket stumbled down the stairs and out the front door, running as fast as he legs could carry him, out of town and across the bridge. He didn't quite know where he was going, but as long as it was away from Slival he didn't care.

He decided finally, after tripping and falling flat in the dirt, that running and crying were two things that didn't go together at all and Rocket sat up slowly and rubbed the tears from his eyes, sniffling and making pitiful whimpering noises to match. He was still for awhile as he composed himself again, and the only noises were those of the nighttime bugs in the woods around him. When Rocket had a firm hold over himself again, he stood up and looked about himself to get his bearings and was rather irritated to discover himself only a few steps shy of the creek bed where he'd come out to Slival in the first place,

"And what a stupid mistake that was." Rocket snarled, taking the steps to that spot and kicking dirt from the bank into it. He lingered for a moment and mentally cursed both the dried creek and Slival before his anger deflated rather abruptly and was replaced with a contrasting shade of sadness.

"I said I hated him." Rocket said to himself, frowning gently down at the stream pebbles, "I didn't mean that…of course I don't _hate_ him…I was just angry. He's just having the same bumps in the road that I had. I don't know why I didn't realize that." Rocket sighed, "I should apologize to him, I guess… but not now. Not until his temper's cooled. But that still leaves where I'm going to sleep tonight."

There was no way going back home would help things. Rocket knew that much was fact. He may as well go kick a bodybuilder in the shin and then stick around to see what his reaction was going to be. All that would end in was bodily injury, and that wouldn't do anyone any good. But even without a house to go back to, Rocket wasn't left without his devices. He had many, many secret hideaways in the woods where he would spend many summer days, occasionally only going home to get food, otherwise staying out in the woods overnight and all throughout the day. And besides, if worse came to worse, he could always stay at Hooly's for the night and go back to face Slival in the morning. That could work.

What he wasn't counting on, however, was to find a huge, muscular silhouette behind him when he turned back around. Rocket stopped dead in his tracks and stared up to where he could see the sharp outlines of a mouth. The mouth grinned crookedly before speaking,

"Well…lookie what we got ere'…"

The next thing Rocket saw was black.


	9. Chapter 9

The floor that Rocket landed on was hard, mostly, and also cold and apparently made out of metal because the bolts that were holding it together were digging into his cheek. From behind, the hinges of the door squeaked painfully before said door was slammed shut and bolted from the other side.

Rocket pushed himself to his knees and threw his gaze over his shoulder to the single barred window in that door. On its other side, there was the muscular man who had jumped him in the woods. As it turned out, that man was none other than the head prison guard of the Plob. A man who Rocket had tangled with many times whilst rescuing the citizens of his hometown. So naturally they both knew one another on strictly visual grounds. The guard had wasted no time in abducting Rocket and brining him straight back to the flying Plob Base, saying things along the way about how the boss would love to hear about the newest prisoner and about getting a raise.

"Ye' sit tight n' there, ye' little shmuck, an' don' be makin' any noise er' else I'll hafta' shut ye' up myself!" that said the man disappeared from the window and Rocket heard footfalls retreating down the hallway until they were gone.

When it was silent again, save for the constant humming of the engine, Rocket got to his feet turned his gaze around his new quarters. The standard cell; eight feet wide by eight feet long by eight feet tall. One cot bolted to the floor, one repulsive toilet, one equally repulsive sink, and one window to the outside, complete with thick metal bars to prevent escape.

Rocket sat down on the cot and cradled his head in his hands. He figured he deserved this. Being locked up in a cell on the _Plob_ ship. Where he was probably going to die in the morning when Don Clawleone came in to pay him a visit. He wished, then, that he hadn't told Slival that he hated him. He wished he just could have been more understanding. If he had, then this whole thing—the fight, the tears, the being captured—would have never happened and he would probably have been curled up in his bed back home with Slival.

But Rocket knew that he couldn't change any of that, and figured he may as well take his fate like a man, and told himself not to cry. With any luck, he could best Clawleone again, just like before. But even at that Rocket knew his chances were slim. He sighed and lay down on the cot, fixing his gaze to watch indistinguishable figures brush passed the window on the door, and set to contemplating his next move.

Slival woke up the next morning with a stiff back and grimaced as he sat up, wondering exactly how Rocket had managed to sleep on this horrible pile of beanbag chairs without killing himself getting up afterwards. He was only somewhat startled to find that Rocket hadn't come back that night. Bo had both slept in, and left her bed unmade, but the one that belonged to Rocket was just as it had been the previous night and was still yet to be touched.

Of course, Rocket was probably just out biding his time still, Slival figured, giving the both of them time to calm themselves down. Which was really a very mature thing to do, now that Slival thought about it. He, Slival, had spent most of that night tossing and turning in the pile of beanbags he had chosen as his sleeping quarters, fretting over what he had said to Rocket, and praying that it not end their friendship. He had been angry and confused was all, and he hoped that Rocket could understand that. Slival really did have the utmost respect for him. After all he _had_ saved his life.

Slival only started to worry when he got downstairs to find the Breakfast Routine missing Rocket. And it was because of this missing element that the entire routine was put out of balance. Bo and Hooly sat silently, exchanging uneasy glances with one another while Ma worried over the toast she had burned, and Pa stood behind her lending his mostly unhelpful efforts in rectifying the situation. Hooly turned and whispered to Slival as he took his place beside him,

"Where's Rocket?" he said, offering a look of mixed concern and anxiety to go with it. Slival shrugged as he spoke and laced his reply with confusion,

"I don't know. He hasn't come back yet?"

"No." Hooly replied flatly, "Man, what did you _do_ to him? I could hear you two yelling from all the way across the street."

Slival winced,

"Yea…I guess that's my fault…I'll explain it later. But you don't think he's just out biding his time or something?"

"He probably was last night," Bo said as she leaned forward, Hooly nodded and continued for her,

"But when he does this he usually stops by my place in the morning before my parents go off to work. And I do mean, like,_ every time_. He doesn't pass up a chance to eat, and we all know it. So he'd _be _here if everything was alright."

"I'm worried about him," Bo said softly and worried on the end of her spoon, "All with the talk in town about the Plob making their comeback and everything, that's all anyone talks about down in the shop when I go to get groceries for Ma. I only hope he's okay."

Guilt hit Slival square in the face and nearly sent him topping over backwards. If Rocket got tangled up in the Plob again, all on account of a little drama that Slival had brought on, he didn't think he'd be able to forgive himself,

"He probably went out into the woods, right?" Slival said as Ma and Pa began to get a handle on the toast situation, "After breakfast we'll all go out there and find him."

"Good plan." Hooly said and nodded, "He couldn't have gone far."

Breakfast was finished with haste, and under the excuse of having to go and find Rocket (without the details about worrying for his safety and the Plob and the reason why he ran out in the first place) and within the hour, the three had gotten themselves organized and were tearing out of town and towards Forewood Forest as fast as they could go.

It didn't take them long to pick out the snapped branches and crushed foliage that Rocket had left in his wake the night before, and they followed it all the way to the stream bed and then paused to catch their breath. Slival, who was running mostly on guilt and adrenaline, recovered first and set about poking around for a clue as to where Rocket had gone next. He found it in the form of the disturbed sand on the bank of the creek.

It wasn't as if Slival was an expert tracker, or anything of the sort. But he had lived out of his Tank, tracking the movement of enemies of the Plob, just as he had been ordered to, and through that, had picked up a few tricks for figuring which way his target was headed. And looking down to discover so much disturbed ground lead him to believe that Rocket had either been dancing a jig on the riverside, or there had been struggling going on between he and some other party. And it was the latter of the two options that had him worried. After a moment's more of inspection, Slival determined the direction in which the struggling had been dragged off in, and called over his shoulder for Hooly and Bo to follow.

As they followed the new trail, Slival shakily explained his theory, and the shocked silence he got was far from reassuring. He prayed with all his might that the trail wouldn't lead to where he thought it was going to lead. He prayed that as he blindly followed the tracks in the mud and the mangled branches and undergrowth that it not lead them to where the Plob Base had previously floated ominously, anchored to the cliff.

He stopped at the wood's edge and cast his gaze across the little plateau and the trail that scuttled across it to the edge of a sheer drop, where there was a massive disturbance of earth. Sort of like where an anchor might have dropped. Out in the distance he could just make out the smudge in the hazy morning sky that was unmistakably identified as a certain flying fortress.

"Don't tell me the trail leads there." Bo whispered, touching Slival's sleeve and biting her lip. Slival swallowed slowly and when he spoke his voice came out scarcely audible,

"I'm afraid it does." He said.

There was a long, shocked silence wherein the three stood gazing out into the sky at the Base that held their friend and brother captive. Finally Hooly spoke,

"So what are we going to do?" he said, "We can't just stand here and let them take Rocket! We've gotta go _get_ him! Whatever it takes!"

"Hooly!" Bo snapped, not so much out of anger as frustration, "We'd need an _army_ to have any hope of getting in there! Not to mention that none of us knows _where_ Rocket is! And that's providing we don't get captured ourselves…or worse!"

"Well I can't just _stand_ here and do nothing! He's my best friend, and _your_ brother!"

"I know that, but what can we _do_? We're just a bunch of kids! It would take a miracle to get him back!"

"Bo!" Slival said, spinning around, "That's _it_!"

"What's it?" the girl asked.

"A _miracle_! That's just what we need!"

Hooly and Bo traded a confused glance before Hooly laid a hand on Slival's shoulder and spoke for both he and Bo,

"Sivs, dude, I know you're under a lot of stress, believe me, we are too, but going off the deep end now isn't what we need."

"No! You don't understand! Don't you remember? In the chapel, they have that big tree growing! They tell us every week when we go there to pray for health and all that. 'On this tree grows miracle leaves. Capable of bringing dead things back to life.' Those miracle leaves are called Yggdrasil! I've used them before to revive my _tank_!"

Slival paused and let the effect of his words sink in and delighted in the grins that spread across Hooly and Bo's faces.

"We'll have a shot at this yet. All we've gotta' do is run back to town really fast, grab one of those leaves and use it on my tank. Right there we've got our army. And nobody knows Plob Base as well as I do, so we have our map right up here," so speaking Slival tapped a finger against his temple.

"That's _perfect_!" Bo said, jumping up and down. Hooly laughed and offered his agreement before posing the next question,

"Where is your tank anyway?"


	10. Chapter 10

"Of _course_ it's on the Mountain!" Hooly said as he tailed Slival back to town, "You couldn't have parked it somewhere easy to get to? Like here in the woods or something?"

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help where Rocket chased me. If it were me, I'd have left it somewhere more secret so nobody would _touch_ it." Slival replied as he tore through the foliage, not bothering with the winding path and figuring that if he went back to town in a straight line it would get them there faster, "And besides that, its probably better its all the way up there. We'll need something high to jump off of if we want to get on that Ship anyway. It's not like its going to pick up hitch hiking Tanks. Much less _mine_."

"A valid point." Hooly replied, "But by the time we get _up_ there, Rocket might be turned into soup! And here's another question, how are we going to get our hands on one of these leaves in the first place? Last I checked they were pretty damn expensive!"

"We'll just borrow one." Slival replied simply and sighed heavily in relief when he saw the bridge come into view.

"You mean we're stealing now?!" Bo objected, "That's wrong!"

"Do you want to rescue Rocket or not?" Slival shot back, "If we _don't_ get the leaf then we _can't_ fix my tank, and we _won't_ rescue Rocket. It's simple as that."

Bo was silent in defeat.

"And besides," Slival continued, and they three paused on the bridge to catch their breath again, "We can always pay the chapel back once we have the money. Do their yard work or odd jobs or something. It's a _chapel_; it's in their nature to forgive, right?"

"Yea, I guess so." Bo said softly, "I just don't know how we're going to get in there, get a leaf, and leave before somebody notices us. We aren't that hard to miss and there aren't that many hiding spots in the chapel itself."

"I've got that all figured out." Slival said and waved a hand to dismiss the topic, "It's gonna go down like this," here Slival drew a breath in preparation for a long explanation, "First, Bo, you and I are going to run back home really fast. I'm gonna get my helmet, and you're gonna get a purse or a bag or something we can hide the leaf in. While we're doing that, Hooly, you're going to go to the chapel and tell the priest you want to go into confession."

"But I have nothing to confess!" Hooly said, "I'm a good kid!"

"Make something up!" Slival said impatiently, "And once you get the Priest into that little confession closet, there will be nobody around to babysit the Yggdrasil tree. Bo and I can sneak in there, grab one and go."

"But how are we going to meet up with Hooly again?" Bo asked, "He won't know when we're done."

"We'll just be on a schedule. Get out of there before ten minutes is up."

"Alright, I can do that." Hooly said.

"We'll be waiting for you right here." Slival said, "And think of a good lie, please."

"Will do!"

And with that, the three continued hastily across the bridge and into town. They did, however, fail to notice the three figures crouched in hiding in the branches of the surrounding trees. With a hand motion from one, the three figures quickly and stealthily followed after.

It was the perfect place for a clubhouse. In the middle of a cursed mountain range that not many dared venture up. Finding the tank there was an added bonus. It didn't work anymore, of course. But driving it wasn't on top of the list of to-do's so none of them minded it much. And besides, the enormous mech had been flung neatly on its side making it quite impossible to climb up the stairs to the control room anyhow.

The particular tank they had found, though, may have been a risky choice for any other time. Even at first glance it was _so_ obvious who it had formerly belonged to. But everyone who was anyone around the Plob knew that Slival was dead, so it didn't matter.

"So, our first orda' ov' business," one of the three scouts said, "What's our club gonna' be called?"

"We could call it tha' Amazin' Supa' Ploblings Club." The second offered. The first hit him over the head with his cap,

"Tha's stupid, ya' schmuck!" he barked, "Its gotta' be somethin' that strikes fear inta' the other Ploblings!"

The third wrung her scarf timidly in her hands,

"Guys, I dun' think we should be ere'…" she said pitifully, "What if….what if he's not really dead?"

"Yer' a bigger schmuck than he is!" the first snapped, "_Everyone _knows that that stupid slime is dead! He couldn't come back even if he wanted to!"

The third shrank visibly from the first and fell silent. There were assorted angry mutters from the latter before the three of them fell into pondering silence. After all, what's more important than a club name?

The cloudy white sunlight streamed in through one of the broken windows, pooling on the floor where the three were sitting, and the harsh mountain wind whipped around the tank, whistling through the cracks in the broken steel. Then, of a sudden, a shadow was cast over the Ploblings and they all froze. The voice that came from behind them was eerily familiar, and so cold,

"What an interesting turn of events…" it said, "I was sure I'd have some things to clean out of my tank…but I never imagined there would be Ploblings…"

The first of the three turned slowly around and looked up into the window. There stood, silhouetted in the bright light, a figure, and had the context clues not given him away, it was the helmet that did. All the Plob knew that helmet.

The young female Plobling screamed, terror stricken and bolted from the tank. Her two companions numbly watched her go before he spoke again,

"She's a lot smarter than you give her credit for…might want to follow her example before I get sick of looking at you..."

The final comment was enough motivation for the other two to quickly abandon their clubhouse. The three of them hightailed it back to the Plob base, and for several hours after their arrival, all they could say was "He's back!".

Slival sighed as the Ploblings disappeared around the bend and sat down heavily on the window ledge. He had a headache,

"That was lame," he said softly, "I thought maybe they'd put up a fight or something." He shrugged and heaved his helmet off and let it clatter to the floor of his tank. It had served its purpose, so he was glad he'd dragged it all the way up the mountain, now it could rest in peace…or perhaps pieces. Hooly and Bo crouched above him on the roof,

"You had them petrified, Sivs, that was awesome!" Hooly laughed, "Man, if you were only on our side before, we coulda' had the Plob defeated in a couple of hours!"

Slival shook his head,

"Its nothing to be proud of," he said softly, "Now come on, we don't have a lot of time, and you still have the Yggdrasil leaf, right?"

"It's in my bag." Bo replied softly. Nodding to the little pink backpack slung over her shoulder. Its contents were a carefully wrapped miracle leaf they had just barely managed to make off with from the chapel. It was a wonder indeed that they all had escaped unscathed.

With a nod, Slival, Hooly and Bo slipped into the ruined tank. With some amount of difficulty and a few piles of broken projectiles, the three managed to climb up onto the second floor and make their way into the control room.

Slival dug around in the debris for a moment before kicking some of it aside and motioning for his two companions to come over. It amazed him how disheveled his tank had become. It had only been a few months at the very most that he'd left it there. And he was very sure that when he'd left it, it hadn't been in such disarray,

"Now look," he said to Hooly, "This is where you have to put the leaf," he pointed to a small glass sphere connected to several fried wires, "I'm gonna hop up another level and try and start er' up. It's gonna throw off sparks and stuff when the current gets down here, that's when you put the leaf in. Bo, you should probably move."


	11. Chapter 11

Rocket was jolted awake by the immense clamor in the corridor outside. Upon realizing he had been asleep, he was astonished for a moment that he'd actually been at ease enough to drift off. The next moment the clamor had traveled closer to the cell door and he could distinguish voices. The Plob, naturally, and they seemed panicked. After a second the heavy door was flung open and a Plob member scurried in and yanked him to his feet and out the door.

Rocket found himself jogging up the hall with who he assumed were the other prisoners. Some he guessed were traitors of the Plob, and others looked to be civilians caught in the crossfire, or warriors like he had been labeled as himself (that was, after all, what all the members had been calling him as they walked by his cell. "That little Warrior from the slime village is in here, did you know?" and things like that). The motley group was herded down several flights of stairs, being divvied into groups according to how valuable a prisoner they were. Soon it was only Rocket and the supposed warriors.

They were driven out a set of double doors onto a large outdoor platform where it seemed a battle was at a temporary cease fire. The Plob had pivoted its tank guns around to face the opposite side of the platform and another set of doors. The members themselves were crouched behind machinery and makeshift barricades. Rocket had barely a second to glance around before he'd been yanked up behind the lines of Plob members. The man who he recognized as the prison guard stood in front of the warriors as they were shoved into a line. The guard burdened the first prisoner with a long javelin sort of weapon and began shouting instructions,

"You schmucks er' our last line of defense. Yer' ta' take these and go out there an' keep the intruders from gettin' passed this point. The Plob members ave' been given orders ta' shoot at anyone who either refuses ta' fight, er' switches sides. Either way yer an expendable force. If ye' manage ta' survive this ye' may er' may not be given the chance ta' become an honorary Plobling. Now fall in!"

The line of warriors was directed, none to violently, to the far side of the platform where the most of them found places to hide behind. Rocket was left standing awkwardly pressed against the wall. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and his hands shook. He was further reduced when there was a deafening explosion from behind the doors that made the entire Plob Base shudder. Several more explosions succeeded it until finally the doors were blown from their hinges and went flying over the Plob members to crash into the far wall and rain debris on the tanks.

Smoke poured through the doors, obscuring the vision of all inhabitants of the room and scattered twisted fragments of the metal walls toppled off of high places and came clattering to the floor. Quite suddenly there was one final explosion and the front end of a tank came through the remainder of the wall, flinging what was left of it into the ranks and causing further collateral damage.

There was a roar as the Plob members leapt from their places and swarmed towards the tank. The warriors surged forward as well, with battle cries and much shoving. Rocket couldn't remember telling his legs to move and carry him forward as well. For that matter he couldn't remember exactly what had happened during the battle besides smoke and gunshots before it was suddenly deathly silent. His surroundings consisted of thick smoke and dust clouds and debris. He sank to his knees, dropping the javelin and had to steady himself on his side to avoid toppling over from the shaking in his limbs.

A moment passed before he felt a breeze which blew the smoke off the platform and over the edge. Vision restored, Rocket found himself facing the Plob ranks that were making a hasty retreat. He heaved himself sitting up and threw his gaze around until he'd taken stock of several lifeless bodies on the floor that he identified as some of the warriors, and other erect figures scattered about the room who he guessed were the prisoners who had survived. With the aide of the javelin Rocket managed to steady himself on his feet. The silence was loud in his ringing ears.

On the far side of the room, the two double doors he had originally come in through were slowly heaved open. They revealed a tall, subtly muscular man, clad in a dark garb with a shockingly purple hat. Rocket recognized him as the head of the Plob, Don Clawleone. In his hand was a long scepter with a large purple gem, which Rocket was all too familiar with. In a single motion, Clawleone had waved the long staff in a circle and the gem glowed and pulsed dangerously. Almost instantly the Plob Leader uttered a piercing shriek, his lean body rippling with power; the staff fell to the floor with a clatter. There was then a brilliant flash, and when Rocket could see again, Clawleone had disappeared and in his place was an enormous purple dragon. The dragon gave a deafening roar before leaping into motion and charging across the room straight at the intruders, and subsequently, Rocket.

He stood frozen to the spot watching the enormous dragon plowing effortlessly through the rubble on the floor, mouth full of razor sharp teeth wide open and ready to swallow him up. When he was sure he was about to die, Rocket shut his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable. The breath was driven from his lungs as he was rammed to the side when a sudden rush of wind and redirected momentum slammed into him. What he was surprised to discover was that he was still alive. There was a crash a ways off and he opened his eyes to see the dragon in a heap against the opposite wall. He heard the tank that had crashed through the wall firing from behind him, and several lethal looking projectiles went flying over his head and did further damage. He barely heard the footsteps running up to him. Rocket turned his head, his vision swimming in a sea of blotchy black. The figure he looked up at he couldn't quite put a name to, considering he could barely see to begin with. He was yelling something, Rocket couldn't hear it. Finally he gave up the fight with consciousness and toppled forward. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was the arms that enfolded him and dragged him away.


	12. Chapter 12

Rocket woke up to a white ceiling and a warm heavy blanket. He blinked blearily for a minute or two before the blast above him snapped him to attention and he sat bolt upright. He was baffled as to his location for a moment before he registered the familiar rumble of a tank's engine. But that still begged the question, whose tank?

After a moment's observation and taking stock of the number of limbs that were still attached and functional, Rocket deemed himself fit for independent motion and kicked the blanket off of himself and dashed down the center corridor between the beds toward the doors. He got barely halfway before discovering his legs were essentially jelly and collapsed to the floor and lay there in a heap. After a second of composing himself again, Rocket pushed himself up onto his knees and used a bedpost to steady himself on his feet again. He used the beds as crutches and eventually was able to make it to the doors and hit the button that threw them open.

Outside was the picture of insanity. Projectiles flew out from storage and onto a conveyer belt that shipped them up onto the second level to the cannons, which Rocket heard firing at what seemed like an impossibly rapid rate. Broken shells and bullets and the like were strewn about on the floor, and the wires and machinery that kept the tank itself functioning were sloppily repaired with electrical tape. Outside he heard deafening crashes and bangs and the metal defenses of the tank creaked dangerously.

Rocket glanced up at the stairs and made his slow way towards and up them, several times having to stop and sit and catch his breath again. Some use he was going to be to whoever had taken him in. When he made it, at long last, up the stairs, Rocket propped himself up against the doorway and took in the scene before him. He couldn't put to words the relief he felt to discover Hooly and Bo operating the cannons. The relief was mixed with a small surge of excitement which reflected in the smile, which was rather painful, that overtook his expression.

When Hooly turned to shout something at Bo he caught sight of Rocket and appeared startled before a grin took over his features. With a motion to do so, Rocket staggered up to the cannon his friend was along side and the second he did Hooly began speaking,

"Dude, don't you_ ever_ get your ass captured by the bad guys ever again!" was the first thing out of his mouth, and Rocket was startled by the little bit of anger under it, "Having said that," Hooly continued, "I'm relieved as anything to see you're alright, I promise, but we're in the middle of a small war at the moment so I gotta' keep this short and sweet." Rocket nodded daftly, turning his eyes up to take in his friend's soot covered face and his rumpled and torn clothes, "Okay, so Sivs is outside clearing a path in the wall of Plob people so we can plow through and mess up the engine and get out of here. Only problem is we're short handed. Bo and I have to work the cannons here, and Sivs is the only other one who can drive a tank, so it's been slow. We need you to drive this baby while Sivs is out there, got it?"

"Got it…right. Drive the tank. Okay." As he nodded, Rocket made his hasty way over to the stairs and clambered up the last flight into the control room above. His legs seemed to be working again and he all but leapt into the cockpit and throwing the lever which made the tank lurch forward. Below him he could see the place where Slival was tearing a hole in the Plob members that were firing on the tank. Judging by the way they scattered and fled, he was doing a good job of it. Rocket noted the small pause in Slival's destructive attack and he guessed the other boy was realizing what was going on because his assault was renewed with gusto.

As the tank lumbered forward, Rocket took quick stock of the buttons and leavers and whatnot that he had at his disposal. He was relieved to find that Slival's tank was surprisingly similar to his own, and upon slamming his hand down over a button that seemed near identical to one of his, he was quite pleased to discover that the pre-loaded ammo was blasted out of the concealed cannons and buried a considerable piece of the enemy under debris and parts of the walls and ceiling. Several more strategically pressed buttons later, Rocket had significantly reduced Slival's workload and their progress picked up considerably. In no time at all they had reached the final doors into the engine of the flying Base.

Rocket saw Slival double back into his tank as he made short work of the last of the resistance. The footfalls that came up the stairs were unsteady and paused awkwardly every so often. Finally Slival burst into the control room, looking a mess naturally, and practically dove over Rocket to pull a lever that caused an ominous rumbling in the tank. Rocket looked oddly at him, but received no response to that. Slival grinned at him, revealing a missing tooth, and threw his arms around Rocket's neck. What he spoke came sounding like all the same sentence,

"Hi, sorry about what I said before, I didn't mean it, I love you with all my heart, can't talk now, though, gotta' go blow stuff up, smash through the wall for me please, kay' thanks, bye!" he left no room for Rocket to interject and, after hitting a button that launched a missile Rocket didn't realize was there, Slival had vaulted out the broken bit of window and darted down the side of the tank and followed the missile as it tore a sizeable hole in the doors. The moment Slival disappeared through said hole, Rocket heaved the tank forward and crashed it neatly through the final obstacle and into the engine room.

He didn't realize until after he saw the missile embedded in the engine that they were about to _blow the entire Base up_. With them still _in_ it. Rocket watched numbly as Slival climbed atop the missile and threw a panel off of it to reveal a timer which he set for merely five minutes before leaping off of it and running helter-skelter back to his tank, back up the stairs and into the control room again. Rocket was promptly deposed into the second seat—one primarily for the firing of artillery—and Slival wheeled the tank around and sent it careening back down the long, completely destroyed hallway back towards the platform they had started from,

"This is how it goes," Slival said, his brow furrowed in concentration, "When I say, you have to hit that button over there, in the glass case. If its not exactly timed right, we might not get the momentum we need to make it back to the cliff, this hunk of metal can only glide so far."

"Got it," Rocket said, and though he tried valiantly to keep his voice from shaking, it was useless. He removed the case and poised his hand above the button. The tank seemed to get caught on every little piece of metal on the floor and it seemed to take so painfully long to lurch it into motion again. Slival seemed to be feeling the pressure as well as he had gritted his teeth in such an extreme expression of concentration that Rocket was genuinely startled by it. He was relieved when he saw the light that signaled they were close.

A low rumble was sent through the Base and Slival swore through his teeth before making a grab for a microphone suspended over his head, he hit the switch on its side before yelling into it, Rocket heard the reverberations of his voice down in the level below them,

"Hooly, Bo, hang on tight; that was the one minute warning, this'll be a rough landing!"

The light was growing brighter, and Rocket's hands shook with anticipation, mixed with quite a bit of anxiety. He couldn't bear to take his eyes off that light, and pray that they reach it in time. He could hear Slival's heavy breathing beside him and barely noticed the ache in his other hand that gripped the arm of the seat such that his knuckles were an unhealthy looking white.

They were onto the platform and speeding towards the edge when the Base shuddered violently, seeming to drop out from beneath the tank for one petrifying second, the next the tank had slammed down on the floor again and Slival had pushed its engine to the limit and sent it flying over the edge.

For a moment time slowed down around them. Rocket watched, wide eyed as they sailed in a wide arch off the platform, the force of the explosion behind them sending them further into open space. Rocket could see the cliff Slival had mentioned and from where he sat it seemed an impossible stretch to cross. The pieces of scrap metal flying off the Base behind them flew by the tank with flaming orange tails, while others collided with the tank itself with horrible noises that sounded like their only means of protection was being torn apart.

Rocket saw out of the corner of his eye Slival draw the breath to shout and his arm felt suddenly prickly as the nerves jumped to move and he had to tell himself to wait until just the right second…

"_Now_!!"

Rocket's fist slammed down over the button and he and Slival were instantly pressed back into their chairs as there came a deafening _whoooosh_ sound and the tank was propelled forward with such force that they overshot the cliff and were sent crashing down into the forest a ways beyond it. The tank did a few flips before coming to a stop on its side amongst many splintered trees. Pieces of it went flying off in all directions and came to a stop in many small craters where they happened to land. Bits of the Plob Base came raining down around them, clattering against the tank itself and into the trees.

Only when everything was quiet again did Rocket open his eyes. He found himself sprawled against the far wall, scattered pieces of the tank strewn about the room, and half burying both himself and Slival who he had apparently landed on top of. Slival, however appeared uninjured, considering the circumstances, and as they two met gazes they exchanged identical triumphant grins.

"Now," Slival whispered, "What have we learned today?"

Rocket's grin widened just a bit,

"We learned never to trust what you say, because you always change your mind later on." When Slival looked indignant, Rocket's smile melted into purely affectionate, "I'm sorry I yelled at you before, I didn't mean anything I said, I love you, thanks for coming to find me again…I deserved to be left there to rot."

"Hardly," Slival replied softly, "And don't mention it…"

Nothing more was spoken; the rest of the conversation was solely physical and emotional. Rocket leaned in, wrapped his arms around Slival's neck and kissed him long and deep and prayed that he would never have to end it.


	13. Chapter 13

The four battered and bruised friends toppled out of the heap of twisted metal and onto the ground with mildly pained noises and no shortage of deep sighs of relief and amazement. When they had gathered up their wits again they stood gaping at the thoroughly destroyed thing that used to be Slival's tank, and the fiery, smoky thing in the sky that used to be the Plob Base. Both, naturally, had seen better days.

At length, the adrenaline began to wear off and Slival let slip an agonized sound and sank to the ground and lay there quietly. Hooly, Bo and Rocket darted to their places around him and leaned over with looks of mixed concern and confusion. A small powwow was held in which it was discovered that Slival had not only managed to shatter some bone in his foot, but also several in his fingers and hands, not to mention the bloody mess that resembled his arms,

"I'll live." Slival said after a moment, clutching his wrist to keep it from moving, "It just might be a good idea to get home soon…"

"No_ kidding_!" Rocket said, throwing his arms up in exasperation, "If you die of blood loss before we get there, I swear I'll kill you."

Slival cracked a weak smile at him before drawing a deep breath, closing his eyes and falling still. For one agonizing second, Rocket was afraid he had, in fact, died. The next he recognized the even rise and fall of his chest and sighed in relief. For a moment the remaining three sat in silence before Rocket darted away and began to dig through the scrap metal for some decent means of an improvised stretcher. He was shortly after joined by Hooly, leaving Bo to sit beside Slival and make sure his condition didn't worsen.

The boys returned after a moment with a long, flat strip of metal, which had apparently formed a corner somewhere, and came to a rounded out right angle at the bottom. They gingerly pushed and pulled Slival onto it and paused for a second to catch their breath. It was in that second that there was an enormous crash from behind them and they whirled around in shock.

The Plob Base had finally given out and had come crashing down just shy of the cliff, sending most of its remaining loose pieces flying off it in all directions. They watched as after a moment a piece of the Base was forcefully flung off, and out of the hole it created emerged Clawleone. He, of course, looked worse for wear, and as he jumped over the gap and onto the cliff, he left in his wake a trail of purple scales that had yet to fall from his figure. His clothes were torn to ribbons and all up and down his arms and legs were long deep wounds that dripped blood onto the ground as he slowly approached them.

Rocket jumped to his feet, forming a barrier between Clawleone and his friends,

"You guys get Sivs outta' here. I'll take care of this." He said darkly. From behind him Hooly and Bo exchanged glances,

"Rocket, you're not in any shape t—"

"Just _go_! I can handle this; I owe you guys that at least. Get out of here!"

"No!" Bo shouted, jumping to her feet along side her brother, "If you stay, I stay too!"

"That's right." Hooly said, finding his place on Rocket's other side. "We're in this _together_."

Rocket looked at them numbly for a minute before he smiled,

"Alright, together it is, but if I kick the bucket you guys are on your own."

"Just shut up and get ready." Hooly snapped, matching Rocket's sarcasm and exchanged a grin with him before turning to face the oncoming foe.

Clawleone stopped apart from the little group, a slightly insane grin spreading across his face, the expression causing more scales to drop from his face. When he spoke his voice was hoarse and cracked,

"I…have to admit…I feel blindsided." He said, and his skin rippled as if trying to contain the dragon inside him, "I was never…expecting to be attacked…by my right hand…had I known he was still…alive…I'd have recollected him promptly…But you…Rocket…have given me more work…humanizing him…I'm afraid I can't forgive that…I'll have to destroy you…"

Rocket gritted his teeth and braced himself against the ground,

"I'll kill you!" he shouted, and clenched his hands into fists, "You're not laying one hand on him or anyone else ever again!"

"Is that so?" Clawleone said, his voice sending chills down Rocket's spine. Without another word, the Plob Boss flung himself at the little group. Rocket was startled by the ferocity behind the attack and realized that Clawleone was serious. He was positive that he would have been killed if a stump in front of them had not suddenly become engulfed in smoke, and out of it popped a tall boy, clothed in black, an orange bandana tied in his hair. In a single fluid movement he had pushed off the ground and slammed the heel of his foot into Clawleone's jaw. The impact sent the latter flying backwards to connect with the ground and skid backwards several more feet before coming to a stop in a pile of dirt and rubble. He had thrown himself back to his feet the next moment, however, and resumed his charge, the power in him swelling and creating an ominous purple glow. From out of the trees on his either side came two more, garbed identically to the first, with green and blue head pieces, respectively. The first flung himself into motion and they three all met in the center point—Clawleone—and the resulting melee was promptly obscured in dust.

"It's the Goonin!" Bo shouted over the din, and at her words, realization hit Rocket and a wild grin spread across his face. The grin turned into a triumphant laugh and he pitched his fist in the air,

"That's _right_! Yea! Go get him!"

Fueled by their comrade's enthusiasm, Bo and Hooly adopted similar cheers and the three stood on the side and jumped up and down until the Goonin paused in their assault and stood over the beaten, still form of Clawleone. When the latter made no move to get up the three ran up to their town's resident ninjas,

"Is he dead?" Hooly called as they came within earshot,

"No." the green ninja, Sashi, replied smoothly, "But I doubt if he'll have any interest in coming after any of you again."

"That's right!" Tom, the orange one, shouted, pumping his fist in the air, "Cos' if he does, he's gonna have his sorry butt kicked into next year!"

"How did you find us here?" Bo asked and tugged on Tom's sleeve. Said ninja grinned at her,

"We've been followin' ya' since you stole that leaf out of the chapel. Heard the whole story, we did, an' thought you might need some help." The response to his explanation was in the form of three identical grins.

"Never the less," The blue ninja, Shido, said "We ought to get you four back to town before we meet with any further resistance." So speaking he turned and lead the others back to where they had left Slival. Once Sashi had administered some quick first aid, the four friends were gathered up and escorted back to town.


	14. Chapter 14

The sun was warm and the wind blew the tall grass into waves and rustled the leaves of the trees overhead. The brook babbled quietly and here and there a bird would chirp and flit to a different branch. Slival was sure he was going to fall asleep right there in the middle of the forest. Of course he may as well, he figured, it wasn't like he could go anywhere. If he so much as wanted to stand up he needed either crutches, which were unaffordable at that point, or the help of both Rocket and Hooly. And seeing as both of them had gone and run away while Bo stood apart and counted to ten before pursuing them, he wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

He could hear them running between the trees and snapping the foliage. From somewhere that he couldn't see, one of them went splashing through the brook, and off to the side a ways somebody screamed. He decided it had been Hooly or Bo because from behind the grass rustled and Rocket appeared beside him.

"Hey," he said, and they exchanged a smile, "Shouldn't you be running away from Bo, or something?"

Rocket shrugged and lay down beside him,

"I guess, maybe," he replied, "I just feel kinda' bad running around and leaving you here all by yourself, is all."

"Don't," Slival replied, "I was about to take a little afternoon nap."

Rocket laughed softly at him and snuggled against his side,

"I'm sorry I did this to you." He said softly,

"You need to stop apologizing." Slival replied lightly, "I'm _fine_, I promise."

"You don't look fine," Rocket said, "If I had been more understanding of you, I wouldn't have run off and gotten myself captured like that, and none of this…" he was silenced when Slival leaned over and kissed him softly. Rocket opened his eyes to regard him when he pulled away,

"Don't beat yourself up about it, seriously," Slival said, "My foot will heal soon enough, anyway. And once it does everything'll be back to normal, right?"

"I guess," Rocket said, "But you better hurry up with that healing or else the sexual tension is gonna' kill me."

The comment succeeded to sink them both in laughter, which in turn, alerted Bo and Hooly to their whereabouts and they ceased the game and joined them in the grass.

It was no true surprise that when they had at long last made it home all those weeks ago that both Rocket's and Hooly's parents had been there with much reprimanding, but no shortage of thanks and relief that they were all more or less alright. Slival had spent the better part of the next two weeks in the infirmary, and when he was permitted to come back home, he spent several days after that in bed. It was only after much pestering that Ma agreed to let Rocket and Hooly help him up and around to places other than the bathroom or the dinner table. With the new freedom, Bo wasted no time in finding her wagon which was then thereafter used to tow Slival around town. The neighbors and owners of shops that they frequented were all euphoric that the four were alright, as well as amazed to hear that they had taken on the Plob for an unheard of _second_ time and destroyed them _again_. They quickly became the popular topic of conversation for just about everyone in town. Little children that Slival didn't even know would scamper from their playthings and beg that they be able to draw pictures on his cast. It was only after many more weeks of limiting their excursions to within the town that Ma finally allowed them to resume trips to the forest and the beach and whatnot. And those trips were renewed with haste.

After several minutes of lounging about in silence Slival stretched and sat up,

"Alright, I'm bored," he announced, glancing around himself as his three companions looked up through the grass at him.

"What do you wanna' do?" Hooly asked as he propped himself up on his elbow, "Besides Rocket, that is." The final bit was added with a rather devious grin, the tone of voice to match. And it caused Rocket to sit up and glare at him,

"Hey, if I'm what he wants to do you have no ground to deny him." The glare lost its desired effect when a grin spread across Rocket's face, "Whadaya' say, Sivs? Wanna' sneak off and have wild sex in the woods?"

Slival matched his grin, the reply with just as much sarcasm,

"Now, you know we can't do that," he said, "First of all, if we leave Hooly and Bo alone, there's no telling what _they'll_ do. And second, I'm half crippled, and we can't have _you_ topping."

Rocket made a face at him,

"And why not?" he said, crossing his arms, "I bet I make a great top." His comment, along with the fact that the way he said it came out sounding like a small child being told no, provoked laughter out of the others, which only made Rocket that much more flustered. Finally he turned to Hooly,

"Come on, back me up here!" he said, waving his arms helplessly. Hooly offered him a wide grin,

"I can't back you up if I agree with Sivs, it doesn't work that way," he said and sank back into the grass again. Rocket groaned and pointedly crossed his arms and turned to face away from Hooly and Slival. The latter two continued with their antics for several minutes afterwards until they grew bored of tormenting their friend and fell silent. The wind through the tree branches slowly picked up and blew leaves off the tops to fall in the grass around them. Bo craned her neck to look up through the trees at the sky above them,

"It looks like rain," she announced after a moment's observation, "We should start getting back before we get wet."

The others offered their agreement noises in response before Rocket and Hooly climbed to their feet and helped Slival to his. And like that, they four began their slow way home. The trip was commenced in a silence that didn't bother any of them, punctuated every now and again by small _ow_'s when Slival would step wrong and put weight on the broken bone. It was only by some stroke of luck that they were able to get as far as Rocket's front door before the skies above opened up and flung forth a torrential downpour.

Rocket, Hooly and Slival staggered through the threshold into the coat room, followed closely behind by Bo who quickly shut the door, their clothes speckled with raindrops and the water dripping off their hair. Several minutes and four towels later found the little group in the bedroom with a board game flung out on the floor before them.

As Bo rounded on Hooly who had stolen the dice, thoroughly distracting them both, Slival turned and nudged Rocket with his elbow,

"You know what?" Slival whispered,

"No…what?"

There was a pause. Then,

"This _was_ a good sin."

**End**


End file.
